


El Casamentero de Los Angeles

by JuliaBC



Series: Realization and Regret Series [2]
Category: Zorro (TV 1957)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 03:20:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5692621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuliaBC/pseuds/JuliaBC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>WDZ. While Senor Zorro tries his hand at matchmaking, Garcia is besieged by three women vying for his heart, and Diego's wife has her own bit of mischief up her sleeve...while all the time a mysterious man is perfecting his scheme of extortion...Written for St. Valentine's Day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of, I hope, many that I plan to write for each Valentine's Day. Last year I wrote Realizations and Regrets, then published it early because I realized that I'd be in the middle ofFar Longer by then and didn't want the two to clash.
> 
> Anyway. So this is a sequel, of sorts, to Realizations and Regrets, and not Far Longer. I hope this to become something annual for me, a story written for Diego and Magdalena every February.

_El Casamentero de Los Angeles_ by JuliaBC

* * *

 

* * *

"But Don Diego, it is not possible," Sergeant Garcia sighed, moody over his mug of wine. "Besides, you cannot possibly know what I feel when you have a lovely wife, just waiting for you to come home."

"I don't think Dona Magdalena is just waiting," Diego chuckled. "She's never just waiting. She'd be more likely to clean the whole house in anticipation than just sit around."

"That is true, too," Garcia said. "Once, while I was there and waiting to speak to you, I saw her plan a whole fiesta, arrange for Padre Felipe to come and bless your hacienda, and plan the menu for dinner that night. Your wife is a very active woman."

"She likes it that way," Diego said, a quiet smile on his face. "Just for curiosity's sake, how long were you waiting?"

"About an hour," Garcia said, gloomy again, but his friend burst out laughing.

"All that in an hour?"

"Maybe not quite so much," Garcia said. "I need your help, Don Diego."

"I know you do, and I bet I know why, too," Diego said. "You are feeling envious of Corporal Reyes."

"Well..." Garcia said.

"I did not think Corporal Reye would dare go, even is Senorita Bastinado did make her invitation again," Diego said. "I do wonder what prompted her to do so."

"I should not have let him go. Corporals should not marry before sergeants," Garcia said, and tried to drain his wine but the mug was already empty. Diego took pity on him, and raised his hand to summon the waitress.

"Another bottle of your finest, _por favor,_ Clara," he said, addressing the raven haired woman.

"Who does it go to?" She asked. "Because Senor Gonzales does not like to waste his wine on already drunk—"

"Clara!" Garcia gasped, horrified. "I am not drunk, and how dare you speak to Don Diego that way?"

Clara's mouth suddenly shook, and before their eyes she slammed her tray down. "Get your own wine," she said, in a voice that Garcia would have said shook, had Clara not been, well, Clara. With those parting words, she fled into the kitchen, and both men watched her, wide-eyed.

In moments, Teo was at their table, apologizing profusely and promising the finest bottle, free.

"Don't joke, Teo," Diego said. "Of course I will pay for it. I am not insulted by Clara's display of...emotion."

"Gracias, Don Diego," Teo said. "You are a good man."

"But wait a moment, Teo," Diego said. "Do you know what troubles Clara?"

"It is but silly women's troubles," Teo said, and for a moment both Diego and Garcia looked uncomfortable, until Teo continued. "I believe it is that _San Valentin's_ feast is coming, and she has no lover."

If Garcia had had any wine, he would have spat it out. As it was, he almost fell off his chair. "Really? I did not know what Senorita Clara had a heart!"

Diego's firmly placed elbow to Garcia's side made him correct his hasty statement. "That is, um... I do not think I meant that."

From the kitchen came a burst of sobbing, and a red eyed Clara suddenly flew through the doors. "Si, Sergeant, as far as you are concerned I have no heart! _¡Vete al diablo!"_

She flew from the tavern, and Garcia watched her go, dumbfounded. "I didn't think she could hear me," he said, in a very soft voice.

"Maybe you should apologize," Diego said. "Why, for all you know, the man she wants for a lover is you!"

The wine having come, Garcia having poured himself some, this time he did spit out his mouthful. "Don Diego! Do you mean it? All this time, coldhearted Clara _has_ been in love with me? I cannot believe it," he sighed. "I once thought it to be so, but then she was so nasty to me I gave up that fantasy."

As the sergeant expounded on how wonderful it was that Clara loved him, Diego realized just exactly what kind of hot water he'd just gotten himself into.

"Sergeant, just maybe," Diego said, trying to quiet the man. "Just maybe you are the one."

"Of course I am the one!" Garcia said. "Do you think _mi amor_ would be unfaithful to me?"

Diego quietly slipped away, realizing that, if he didn't act soon, two people's hearts would be broken when _San Valentin's_ feast reached them...

* * *

Magdalena was indeed not just waiting for him. When he walked through the gate, the first sight he saw was his wife standing on a stool and trying to tug down a flowerpot from where it hung.

Puzzled, he walked forward quietly, and circled his arms around her waist.

"Ah!" She shrieked, meaning to defend herself but realized who it was just before she swung at him. "Oh, Diego!"

"What are you doing?" He asked. "Trying to destroy something?"

"Don't be silly," she said, trying to get away from him but her perch on his arm was too precarious. "But the blooms in this pot are dead. I need to replant."

"There's a better way to do it," he said. "The way most people would do it, by drawing it up while standing on the balcony."

Magdalena's face was smeared with dirt from her troubles, and her hair was hanging around her face in ringlets from where they'd escaped her chignon.

"Oh, I didn't think of that," she said reflectively, looking up at the balcony to confirm Diego's words.

"You rarely do," he said, letting her slide to the ground.

She gazed up at him now, instead of down, and smiled. "How was your trip into town?"

"It went well," he said. "I got the money for my father, and I helped Garcia."

"With what?" She asked, and, no longer able to restrain himself, Diego leaned down and kissed her.

His father, of course, chose that moment to walk in. "Oh, you are back, Diego. I thought I heard your voice."

Diego straightened, and Magdalena slipped away from him, heading upstairs, and Diego saw her hurry to their room, to wash her face, he expected.

"Did you manage to collect from Senor Barcos?"

"Si, I did. He also sends his apologies for taking so long," Diego said, handing his father the purse of money.

"Normally, I would not begrudge him the time spent," Alejandro began, weighing the bag in his hand, "but that was such a large number of cattle I felt quite uneasy about his refusal to pay."

"Well, it should all be there," Diego said, reassuring his father.

Alejandro nodded. "What other news from Los Angeles?"

Diego couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. "It's an odd situation," he admitted, still chuckling as he moved to sit down. "I was talking with Garcia, and ended the conversation with the resolve to, uh, well, it's so silly."

"To what?" Alejandro asked, sitting down opposite him at the patio table.

"Matchmake," Diego said, eyes twinkling. "I think Clara has a soft spot for our sergeant."

"Clara?" Alejandro asked. "But she—"

Diego shrugged, another smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

"Matchmaking, eh?" Alejandro said, leaning back in his chair.

"But I cannot let Garcia know I plan to help him. He thinks he has the situation under control."

Alejandro's face lit up. "You don't mean..."

As Bernardo came down the stairs, Diego grinned and traced a careful 'Z' in the air.

* * *

Zorro crept along the road, keeping Tornado tightly reined in. He halted beneath the window of the Commandante's office and shifted to stand on his saddle. In moments, he had slipped through the window and was waking Garcia with a light tap of his sword on the man's shoulder.

"No, I don't want breakfast right now," Garcia grumbled, reaching a hand to swat away the blade. Upon feeling what it was, he bolted upright. "Zorro!" He exclaimed, then frowned. "I might have known. You always like to interrupt me in the middle of my best dreams."

"Which was this particular one about?" The outlaw inquired.

"It was about Cl—no one, Senor Zorro," Garcia fumbled.

Zorro grinned. "It occurred to me, Sergeant, that _San Valentin's_ feast day is coming upon us, and it also occurred to me that you, my Sergeant, do not have a sweetheart."

"It is not for lack of trying," Garcia sighed. "I have been using my best manners in the tavern and no one notices! Until today. I think Senorita Clara might be sweet on me!" He said. "And I know just what to do."

"Do you?" Zorro said. "I was thinking you might need a little help finding a sweetheart, but if I was wrong..."

Garcia nodded. "Don Diego wished to help, but I told him the same thing I am going to tell you. I have it all in hand. Tomorrow, I will ask Clara to marry me."

Zorro's eyes widened. "Do you really think that is the best idea? After all, I do not think Clara would willingly come to live in this cramped office."

Garcia opened his mouth to speak, looked around his room and wilted. "You really think so?"

"Si," Zorro said. "And wouldn't it be a better idea to start things off more slowly? After all, you are such a young man! You do not need to be thinking about just marriage yet. You might flirt a bit first, get to know all the senoritas better."

Garcia's eyes widened. "No, no, I just want Clara. Or Dolores. Or that lady..." He trailed off. "Never mind about that. Alright, I will take things a bit slower. What do you suggest, Senor Zorro? You have romanced many a heart in your day."

"Not on purpose," Zorro protested. "And I really did not intend my mask to entice. It was meant to drive away interest!"

"That did not work so well," Garcia said glumly. "Wait! Do you think if I started wearing a mask, Clara would marry me?"

"Why don't you try giving her some flowers instead?" Zorro said, Garcia nodded and the outlaw was gone.

* * *

In the tavern, Teo locked the door and headed behind the counter. He opened the box there, and took out the pesos held inside. With them safe in his apron pocket, he blew out the candle on the bar and headed for the kitchen.

When he saw who awaited him there, he froze. "Not this week," he whispered, but after a wordless exchange with the intruder, reached into his pocket and held out the coins, hand trembling.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. The title translates to a simple: The Matchmaker of Los Angeles.


	2. Chapter 2

 

* * *

The next day, as Magdalena sat over a letter and resisted the urge to chew her quill, she heard a carriage pull up outside and stood up in expectation, eager to get away from her unwelcome task.

She didn't know what to say in her letter to Diego's uncle Estevan. Si, she wanted to invite him but she felt awkward for doing so after how matters had been settled last time he'd visited.

Diego had told her all sorts of tales of his visit, and how he'd tried to marry Margarita.

But Magdalena had never met Estevan de la Cruz, and was much hoping to. He had a traveling soul, one that matched her own, and she'd welcome the opportunity to talk of Spain and other far off places with him.

Now, she hurried to the sala door, and through it to the patio. She reached the gate just as it opened, and her aunt Inez walked in, looking behind her.

"Aunt Inez," she cried, embracing her. "Whatever are you doing here? Aren't you busy?"

"I need your advice," Inez said, struggling away from her niece's embrace. Miffed, Magdalena watched as her aunt hurried past her to the sala, and noted the cape she wore. It was a rather warm day, and such coverings were not needed.

She hurried after her, and just as she reached the door, Inez ran forward and grabbed her hand. "Stop dallying," she scolded. "And sit down. I need your opinion on something."

"Si, of course," Magdalena said, and quickly situated herself in an armchair.

Inez cleared her throat, standing in the middle of the top step. "As you know, I've had _une affaire de cœur_ with our good Commandante for quite some time now. But it's so hard to get him to act." She plonked her hands on her hips, a slight frown on her face. "And he insisted on mooning over that Dolores Bastinado. I do not understand it. She's so mannish."

"Aunt—" Magdalena began, but Inez cut her off.

"I have a fine hand," Inez continued. "I write beautifully. That is why it pained so much to imitate her scrawl."

"You didn't!" Magdalena exclaimed.

"I did," Inez said proudly. "Si, it was I, Inez Montes, that sent that letter. I took my fate into my own hands. I will not let the Sergeant moon over Dolores any longer!"

"That's good, isn't it?" Magdalena said cautiously, expecting Inez to interrupt her again.

"Yes, it is," Inez said, and reached down to untie the ribbons on her cape. "Look at this."

Magdalena fought back an urge to gasp as the cape fell to the floor. Her aunt wore a beautiful dress, but it was rather...

"Isn't that neckline a little low?" Magdalena said. "The sergeant is a rather shy man."

"The Commandante deserves a stylish wife," Inez said, turning so that Magdalena could see the back of the dress. "I wrote a friend in Spain to send me copies of the very latest fashions, and this is what they managed. Isn't it perfect?"

"Si, perfect," Magdalena said. "But which friend? Senora Carina?"

"Don't be silly, she has the sense of a wet dog," Inez said, her hands fluttering over her dress like little birds. "No, I wrote Estevan de la Cruz. I did miss his visit last year, but ten years before that, his last visit here..."

Again, the sly smile appeared. "We had quite a flirtation."

* * *

After her aunt had left, Magdalena walked back to the desk feeling rather bewildered.

She picked up her feather pen again, scratched out a few lines and then crumpled the letter all together.

Leaning her head on her hands, she looked around the room as if to confirm her surroundings. Shaking her head, she stood up.

She believed it was time to go into Los Angeles.

* * *

Sergeant Garcia walked along the street, something held behind his back. "Buenos dias, Hernando. Buenos dias, Don Alfredo."

The two smiled at him as he walked by, then exchanged puzzled glances. Don Alfredo was looking into buying a sword, and Hernando carefully withdrew one of his finest blades as a horse thundered in and a lady dismounted.

Looking to see who it was, Don Alfredo nodded to Hernando, placed the sword down and jogged over to help the dismounting senora.

"Oh, gracias," Magdalena said. "Don Alfredo! What brings you to Los Angeles? I thought you were quite busy."

"Magdalena," he greeted. "I am busy. Banditos have been giving me much trouble. But my sword was damaged, and I came to see if Eugenio could repair it."

Her puzzled gaze mentally reviewed his path. "But you came from Hernando's stall."

"Eugenio could not," Alfredo chuckled, and Magdalena laughed with him.

"You will replace it altogether?"

"Si, it's the best solution," Alfredo said.

She nodded. "I have my own business," she said. "Please forgive me."

"Of course," he said. "I hope you have a profitable visit to the stalls."

Magdalena smiled. "I do, also."

She wandered away from him, going towards the lace maker's stall and examining some, taking off her gloves to feel the material. Frowning, she picked up one.

"Rosa?" She asked, and the elderly stall owner came over. "This lace seems unfamiliar. Where was it from?"

Rosa held out her hand and Magdalena handed it to her. The lady turned it over in her hands, and smiled. "Dona Magdalena, this is from France. They say France has the best lace, you know. Would you like it?"

Magdalena hesitated, then the slight frown disappeared from her forehead. "Si, I would."

Her temporary mission completed, Magdalena now made her to the cuartel. It was rather inappropriate for a lady to go in alone, but Magdalena knew that no one would dare suggest that Dona Magdalena de la Vega visiting her husband's friend, Sergeant Garcia, was indecent or not allowed.

How she loved Los Angeles and the freedom it offered her.

How she loved the name of de la Vega. It opened doors for her that she previously hadn't known existed.

And how she loved her husband. Just thinking of him made her smile, and wonder where he was at that exact moment...

* * *

Rosa hummed as she hurried to her tiny house, having left her granddaughter to mind the stall for a moment. "Rita!" She called, planning on making a gift of the pesos to her struggling daughter, whose husband had been killed just a few months ago.

But when she entered the house, no Rita awaited her. Instead there was a man, one whom she recognized, and one who set her knees trembling. She placed the pesos on the floor and turned around, running back to the market.

* * *

"I mean it, Sergeant, not like that!" Diego said, throwing his hands up helplessly. They sat at the outside tavern today, after having been assured by Teo that Clara would be inside all day.

"But someone smart said flowers," Garcia answered.

"Si, flowers," Diego said. "But these, _mi amigo,_ are weeds."

He flung the pitiful bunch down on the table. "I don't know who told you to do this, but I don't think this is what they meant."

"Si, it probably isn't," Garcia sighed. "I am such a _baboso._ "

"No, that is one thing you are not," Diego said. "But speaking of, I think I just saw my wife enter the cuartel. She's probably looking for you."

"Dona Magdalena?" Garcia said, putting down his cup. "Coming to see me? I'd better hurry over there."

"So had I," Diego said dryly. "I have no doubt that she is up to something."

The two men walked across the pueblo, and were told by the guard on duty that Dona Magdalena had chosen to wait in Garcia's office.

Diego's lips twitched, and he took care to step extra loudly as they walked up to the office of the Commandante.

He needn't have. Magdalena sat in the visitor's chair, calmly waiting with a swinging foot.

"Dona Magdalena," Garcia greeted, his large body momentarily obscuring Diego from his wife's vision.

"Sergeant," she said, and Garcia bent to kiss her hand.

"Magdalena," Diego greeted, and the look she gave him was so comical it was hard not to laugh.

"What are you doing here?" Magdalena asked. "I thought you were riding to the north pasture."

"I did that early, since I had business in Los Angeles," Diego said, eyes sparkling.

Garcia hurried around to his side of the desk, taking a few moments to situate himself in the chair before clearing his throat.

"What business do you have with the acting Commandante of the pueblo de Los Angeles?"

Magdalena bit her lip. "You know, I hadn't planned to have this conversation with my husband around."

Garcia's eyes widened as Diego looked at his wife's visit in a new light.

"Dona Magdalena, please do not speak that way!"

"I did not mean it like that," she said, lowering her burning face. "I simply meant that this visit was supposed to detail a surprise for my husband."

"Ohhhh," Garcia said, suddenly understanding everything but Magdalena was no longer sure what everything was.

He stood up and walked around his desk. "Pardon, Don Diego, but let me escort you to the door."

Diego, barely restraining laughter, let the Sergeant kick him out and wandered back into the plaza.

* * *

The day was peaceful, but his life was nowhere near suddenly.

As he walked, the coach from Monterey thundered into the plaza, and Diego watched in amazement as a familiar figure alighted.

"Senorita Nina!" He called, and the tiny woman turned her head.

"Si, but who are you?" She asked, puzzled.

"I am Don Diego, the man your brother told you to embrace if Senor Zorro did not appear," Diego said.

"But what about the man I did embrace?" Nina asked, even more puzzled.

"That was Don Ricardo, the man who orchestrated the whole thing."

"But how do you know me if you were not there?"

"I did meet you later," Diego said. "Afterwards, when Don Ricardo finally convinced you that he was not me."

"Oh, now I remember! You _and_ Don Ricardo." She said. "But that is not my business here."

"I will be glad to help you in any way that I can," he said.

" _Muchos gracias._ Now, what I would like to know is: where can I find Sergeant Garcia? I'm supposed to marry him."


	3. Chapter 3

 

Magdalena left Sergeant Garcia's office satisfied. He'd promised to do what she'd asked, and she knew that she could trust him to carry it out to the letter.

Across the plaza, she saw Diego talking to a petite woman, and hurried over to meet them. "Diego. Please introduce me to your friend."

"Magdalena, this is Senorita Nina Amantero. Senorita, this is my wife, Dona Magdalena." Diego introduced to each other with a worried frown on his face.

Magdalena wondered at it, but merely greeted the lady. "Buenos dias, Senorita Nina. May I ask what brings you to Los Angeles?"

"It is private business," Nina said. "I only asked Diego because he knows so much about this pueblo's residents."

"Si, I do," Diego said, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "Would you like to sit down in the tavern? It's rather warm out here."

"No, I do not think so," Nina said. " _Gracias_ for asking. I think I must be getting on, though. I assume that he will be in the _cuartel_."

Her eyes pierced Diego. Magdalena saw how anxious her husband was becoming, and quickly interrupted. "My husband feels uncomfortable letting you sit out here in the sun. Please, join us in the tavern to have a bite to eat."

At the mention of food, Nina perked up. "Well, just for a few moments. Just let me speak to the driver, Senor Diaz." She hurried back to the coach, and Magdalena stared at Diego.

"Are you going to tell me what on earth is happening?" She asked.

"I'm not quite sure myself," Diego began. "She is looking for Sergeant Garcia."

"Oh, trouble?" She asked, gazing after the lady's diminutive figure. "Is that why you are worried, because Zorro might have to get involved?"

Diego laughed, a worrying sound. "I only wish that it were that simple. I cannot explain right now, Magdalena."

He patted her arm. "Could you go on home? I want to speak to her alone."

Puzzled, Magdalena stepped back. "I suppose. I was wanting to get back early anyway. _Adiós,_ " she said, and walked back to her horse, hoping that Diego would run after her to say a proper goodbye. Or, preferably, an _improper_ one.

But he didn't.

* * *

Diego offered his arm to Nina, and almost dragged her inside the tavern to get her situated at a table.

"What would you like?" He asked Nina when Clara walked up.

"Oh, their best lunch will do," she said, removing her shawl from her head.

" _Dos,_ " Diego said to Clara, and she nodded, shooting Diego a bitter glance that made his already uneasy stomach wince.

"And a bottle of your best wine," he called after her. _I think I'll need it._

"Now, why do you say you are to marry Sergeant Garcia?"

"I received a letter with betrothal money in it," she said complacently. "It was an offer my father couldn't possibly refuse! He gave me my dowry and I boarded the next coach to Los Angeles."

"Pardon, but your family has never met the Sergeant," Diego said.

"There was a beautiful letter of recommendation enclosed," Nina said. "Signed from someone we did know, so we decided to trust it."

"What someone?" Diego asked. "May I see the letters?"

"No," Nina said, drawing her reticule close to her chest. "They are my possessions."

"My apologies, I did not mean to insult," Diego said, hurriedly making his amends. "But shouldn't you have someone verify their authenticity?"

Nina shrugged. "I believe the words said, and why should I let you read them? You might steal them to use on your own lady, and just change the names."

"I'm married, you just met my wife," Diego reminded.

"I have heard that you dons sometimes do not care if they are already married," Nina said, and sat on her reticule.

Diego closed his eyes in frustration. "Where on earth do you get that piece of information?"

"From a don, of course," Nina said. "From the person who wrote the recommendation."

"And who is that?" Diego asked, and her answer floored him.

* * *

"Ah, Magdalena, you are home," Alejandro said, hurrying to meet her. "I was thinking. Don Marcos is again having his annual masquerade on _San Valentin's_ feast day. I need help with my costume."

"You do not wish to be a soldier, like last year?" Magdalena said.

"I felt foolish enough then," Alejandro said. "But how do you know about that?"

"Diego told me," she said slyly. "He said you looked quite dashing, as a soldier of the King! I forget, whose uniform did you borrow?"

"I borrowed no one's!" Alejandro said, exasperated. "I had it made for me."

"Ah, never mind then," Magdalena said. "I _was_ having trouble imagining you in Sergeant Garcia's trousers!"

Alejandro opened his mouth to scold her, then burst out laughing. "Oh, you can always make me laugh, _mi hija._ "

"I know," she said. "As a matter of fact, I do have an idea for your costume. But first, can you tell me if the name Nina Amantero is familiar?"

Alejandro tried the name out. "Nina Amantero. No, I do not remember that name. Why?"

"Just someone I met in the plaza," Magdalena said. "Diego was talking to her."

"What was Diego doing in Los Angeles?" Alejandro said. "He said he was going to the North...Oh." He smiled. "I would not worry over it, Magdalena. He has some business."

Feeling unsure, she traced a 'Z' and he nodded. "But in the plaza..." She began, then gave it up. "Never mind. Here, what would you think of dressing as a knight?"

"In armor?" He asked.

"No, with a tunic over leggings," she explained.

"I'm not sure, I'd have to see a picture," he said, and she nodded.

"I thought you'd say that. Come along, I know the book."

* * *

Diego left the tavern after having put up Senorita Nina in a room. She had protested at first, but he'd told her that Garcia was not in Los Angeles at this time, and she'd acquiesced, huffing at the assumption she couldn't pay for a room herself.

"I brought pesos," she snapped.

"Well, it's just because you won't stay at my hacienda," Diego said. "I would welcome you as a guest."

"No," Nina said, and that was the end of that. She'd stormed up to her room, and Diego had discreetly slipped Teo the pesos needed for her room.

"Let her pay, if she wants to," Diego said, speaking softly. "But change the price, eh?"

Teo had nodded, and Diego left the tavern feeling like strangling one certain person.

Or cutting him a little around the throat.

No matter what he did, he couldn't seem to escape Ricardo's hijinks. All he'd wanted to do was help Garcia with Clara, and Ricardo's sixth sense for trouble had felt it and sent Senorita Nina here, just to bother Diego!

Diego sighed, mounting Torcedor slowly. It wasn't Ricardo's fault. In fact, it was quite warmhearted of the Practical Joker.

But his timing was so uncanny.

And his handwriting, as Nina had said, was lovely.

Diego urged Torcedor homeward. He had a feeling Magdalena would be expecting an apology...

* * *

Magdalena was in the sala when he got home, and had changed from her riding outfit to a pink day dress.

" _Hola,_ " he said cautiously, walking forward.

She only tipped her head to indicate she'd heard him, keeping her gaze firmly on the book in her hands.

"Magdalena, it was an odd situation," Diego explained. "I can explain everything, but know that I did not mean to slight you."

Magdalena turned her head a bit. "What kind of situation?" She asked, and Diego captured the moment by leaning forward to kiss her.

"Don Diego!" Cresencia called, and Diego bit back a groan as he pulled away.

"I thought that was you," Cresencia said, coming into the sala. "I have a question."

Magdalena stood up, and as he spoke with Cresencia, he saw her leave. He felt something stab at his heart when he realized how often that had happened these past few days.

* * *

Senor Diaz, the coach man, stepped down from his post with a grunt of relief. He'd been sitting too long. This ride from Monterey to Los Angeles got harder every time. Yet, he dreaded the day he would be compelled to hand the reins over to his son.

He moved to head for the tavern, knowing something to drink would make his aches and pains lessen considerably. But in the late afternoon shadows, he spied a man, and knew that a trip to the tavern would not be on his agenda after all...

He wouldn't have the pesos.


	4. Chapter 4

 

Sergeant Garcia was, for the most part, a happy man. Si, he'd like a bit more gold in his wages. Si, he'd like a wife, and children, and he'd certainly like to catch Zorro.

But he knew that he had an uncommonly good life for a Sergeant in the army, a good post, and very good friends.

Still, he'd like to work on the _wife_ part.

He'd picked some new flowers yesterday, and taken them to the tavern, but Clara had not been there, and, seeing them wilt, he'd given them to Teo.

"I do not take weeds as payment," Teo had snapped.

* * *

"It seems I did not do much better the second time," he sighed, sitting at his desk and pretending to write a formal report on Zorro's last appearance.

"He climbed through my window," he scrawled, speaking as he wrote it down, and then dropped the quill again to put his hand on his chin and sigh. "I'm so worried about Clara," he confided to the quill, and picked up a new piece of parchment.

The words came easily, and he was barely even paying attention. His mind and heart went where they did on their own.

_Your laugh  
_ _Your smile  
_ _Your beauty  
_ _Your kindness  
_ _These are why I love you_

He was shocked to realize, at the end of his words, that the name he had written was not Clara's...

"What does this mean?" He cried, crumpled the paper and returned to his report. Zorro could always straighten out the thoughts that muddled his brain.

* * *

Diego recognized that Magdalena wasn't satisfied with him, and made sure to go upstairs soon after she did. She was already in bed when he got there, and didn't move when he finally climbed in beside her.

"Magdalena..." he began, shifting so that his hand was on her shoulder. "The Senorita Nina came with a very specific mission to accomplish. As it happened, it clashed with something I am doing as Zorro, and, well, I was feeling a little distracted."

"What are you doing?" Magdalena asked, rolling over to face him and he saw her eyes flash with anger in the darkness.

Diego sighed, and shifted so that he was leaning on his elbow, his face near hers. "I'm helping Sergeant Garcia romance Clara."

Magdalena looked puzzled. "What?"

"Clara, the waitress," Diego explained. "I have reason to think she does have a soft spot for the sergeant, and I decided to help him as Zorro, since he did not welcome help from Diego."

Magdalena sat up, and stared down at him. "Clara has a soft spot for the sergeant?"

"Si," he said. "And one of the first things Nina said to me was that she planned to marry."

"Who?"

"Sergeant Garcia," Diego said, and watched as her eyes widened.

"But, Diego!" She said, horrified. "But what about Inez?"

"What about her?" Diego asked, amusedly pulling her back down to him.

"She's the one who wrote!" Magdalena said, trying to explain.

"Wrote what?" He whispered.

"The letter from Dolores Bastenado!" She wailed, and Diego suddenly straightened.

"Pardon?"

"She forged a letter from her and sent it to Corporal Reyes, and so he went off to visit her, therefore eliminating her as competition for Garcia," Magdalena said.

"But Dolores does not even like the Sergeant!"

"He likes her," Magdalena said.

After a moment, they both started laughing. "What a situation to be in!" Diego exclaimed. "This is why we've been avoiding each other? And this was what your visit to Sergeant Garcia was about!"

Magdalena leaned back onto her pillow, and looked coyly down at her hands. "No."

"No?" Diego asked. "Then what was it?"

"A surprise," she said. "It's still a surprise."

Diego gave up, and flopped back down on his own pillow. "Magdalena?" He asked, and she rolled to face him.

"What?"

"You're going to be the death of me, you know that?" He said, and pulled her close.

* * *

"So who do we help?" Magdalena asked, the next morning.

"I have to help Garcia with Clara," Diego said. "But I also need to distract Nina."

"But why?" Magdalena asked. "Are you even sure that Clara does like Garcia?"

"Well, no," Diego said. "I'm guessing."

His hazel eyes shone at her. She shook her head, and climbed from the bed.

"I think I'm helping Inez," she said, starting to brush her hair.

"Think?"

"She did not actually ask me to do anything," Magdalena said. "She just told me her plan."

"And what's that?"

"To rendezvous with him at the masquerade Don Marcos is giving. She said she was sending an invitation today."

"How bold," Diego chuckled. "Your aunt is more like you than I originally thought."

"Or I am more like her," she corrected.

"So it seems we are both not changing courses," Diego said thoughtfully. "I suppose we just have to leave Senorita Nina to her own devices."

"Si," Magdalena said.

* * *

Magdalena spent the day arranging for _suegro_ Alejandro's costume to be made. It was simple enough, and she relaxed in her chair as she finished the last of the preparations for it.

Now for her own costume. She'd always wished to go as the Greek goddess Persephone, but had never dared to in Mexico City, a place much too full of wagging tongues and shaking heads. She remembered the pomegranate, that was too obvious, but she couldn't remember the other item used to identify her, and went to the study to find a book that could tell her.

Leaning back in her chair, she flipped through a book on Greek mythology, and noted that grain and a torch would be the items to use. Standing again, she prepared to leave when she realized something, smiled, and hurried to change into riding clothes.

She had business with Inez.

* * *

"What do you think of this?" Inez said, bustling into the room.

"What, Inez?" Magdalena asked, leaning over the table where an unframed painting lay.

"No, don't look at that," Inez fretted, hurrying over to flip it over. "This necklace. Will it match my gown that I showed you? I borrowed it from Moneta Esperon, but I think it's too...new for me."

"It won't match the dress, if that's what you are asking," Magdalena told her, and Inez reluctantly unfastened it.

"Would you like to return it to her?" Inez asked. "If I am going to get a new necklace, I should be going straight to the pueblo and not dallying at the Esperon's hacienda."

"I can return it on the way back," Magdalena agreed, and pocketed the necklace.

"Now, why did you come to see me?" Inez questioned, already poised to leave.

Magdalena refrained from the urge to laugh straight out at her aunt's dithering.

"I don't think you need to worry about it so," Magdalena said. "If it were me, I'd just wear a plain gold necklace, and you surely have one of those."

Inez came back. "Plain gold?"

"Well, a wide one," Magdalena explained. "By no means a choker. Something that dips almost as low as the dress so as to raise the neckline."

"Why should I wish to do that?" Inez asked, hands flying to her hips. "Are you sure you are trying to aid me, and not hinder me?"

"I need to ask you something," Magdalena said, ignoring her aunt's infuriated question. "It's about Diego. I'm planning a surprise for him..."

* * *

That night, Zorro rode again. When he reached through the window to the little room Clara had next to the tavern, he saw a small bunch of wildflowers and a note. He replaced the wildflowers with roses, but left the note.

The next morning, Clara woke to find the most gorgeous bouquet of flowers she'd ever seen next to her bed. The note was from Sergeant Garcia.

_"To Clara, one whose nectar is sweeter than the blossoms I offer."_

Clara's eyes widened, and she got out of a bed in a daze, and for the rest of the morning, Teo surveyed her as she poured wine on a customer's lap, tripped over her own feet, and sang a song about roses and love.

He had never seen his niece like that in his whole life.

When Sergeant Garcia came in, Clara profusely thanked him for the flowers and offered the tavern's best lunch.

"I cannot afford it," Garcia apologized.

"Who said anything about you paying for it?" Clara said, and danced off to the kitchen.

In moments, she returned bearing a guitar. "Sergeant, sing me a song!" She exclaimed, and Garcia began to strum a slow serenade.

Senorita Nina came down as the song started, and upon inquiring, learned that the man singing was Sergeant Garcia.

"Demetrio Lopez Garcia, acting commandante of the pueblo de Los Angeles?" She hissed to Teo, staring in disbelief as he serenaded another woman.

"Si, who else?" Teo shrugged, tired of women asking about him.

"Well, I never!" Nina snapped. "One minute he's asking me, and the next..."

She marched up to him, and tapped him on the shoulder. "Sergeant Garcia?"

"Si?" He said, and dropped the guitar. "Oh, _buenos dias_. You arrived on the coach, si?"

"Si," she said, and he jumped to his feet.

"I am Demetrio Lopez Garcia, Sergeant in the King's army, and acting Commandante of this pueblo. May I ask you your name and business in Los Angeles? You see, I must."

"Of course," Nina said. "I am Senorita Nina Amantero. I came to Los Angeles to marry you."

* * *

The first sound in the tavern after Nina's unexpected announcement was the shatter of dishware breaking. Teo had dropped a cup he'd been drying.

Clara was staring at Nina with abject horror, and Nina seemed discomfited by the way Garcia was staring at her.

"You mean, you, and her?" Garcia pointed his finger at each, as he spoke. "Oh, this doesn't make any sense." He said, swayed on his feet, and dropped to the floor.

The floor shook. Teo winced as Clara shrieked. " _Mi sargento!"_ She cried, dropping to her knees beside him.

"He actually fainted?" Nina asked.

"Si," Clara said, and got to her feet, her eyes flashing with anger and her hands firmly on her hips. "I would not be surprised if you had planned this as a—a—an assassination attempt!"

Agonized, she turned to Teo. "Water, _por favor,_ " she asked, while Nina huffed.

"Assassination! He is my intended, of course I do not wish to kill him!" Nina exclaimed, as Teo hurried around the counter and unceremoniously dumped a bowl of water on Garcia's head.

Clara shrieked, agian. "Ay yi yi! You clumsy man! Why did you not let me do it gently!"

Teo raised his eyebrows at her. "Watch who you are speaking with, Clara Maria Rosa Gonzales!"

Clara was about to reply, in just as biting a tone, when Garcia stirred on the floor and she instead collapsed on her knees beside him again.

" _Mi sargento,_ are you all right?" She cried, and Garcia was about to reply to Clara when Nina knocked the other woman out of the way.

"I don't think so!" She exclaimed. "He is my betrothed!"

"Senorita, I don't think I am," Garcia said weakly, but as the two women started fighting, he just sighed and helped himself up with many a grunts.

Neither woman noticed his struggle, absorbed as they were in a vicious fight.

Garcia plunked a peso down next to Teo's hand. "I will come back later, perhaps," he said.

Teo nodded.

* * *

Once back in the commandante's office, Garcia discovered that his shirt was wet and hurried into his bedroom. "I shall have to change it," he murmured, as a knock sounded on the outside door.

"Come in," he shouted, unbuttoning the jacket. "I will be out in just a moment!"

Now there was a knock on the bedroom door, and Garcia opened it reluctantly. "Si, Private, what do you want?"

"There's a lady here to see you," he replied.

Garcia panicked so violently, his hand shot out and knocked a vase off his bureau. Even that, he did not register.

"Tell her I am sick!" He said. "No, violently ill! I wish to see no one!"

* * *

Maria, who used to work in the tavern, walked quickly home that night. Her basket was full of good things to eat; things she'd been able to get at a marvelous price in the stalls today.

She was excited to show them to her _suegro,_ Salvio, since she knew Eugenio was working late at the forge. An order had come in, a big one that he would have to stay overnight to finish.

She planned to visit him later, when the meal she was going to prepare would be ready.

Right now, she opened the door to the little house, and sang out a greeting. "Papa Salvio!"

"No," a voice said, and she froze.

Suddenly, she had a feeling that her _querido_ Eugenio would be getting cold beans again.


	5. Chapter 5

 

When Zorro crept through Garcia's window that night, he was very surprised to find that the sergeant was still awake; still awake and clutching a saber in his hand as he watched the window.

"Aha! Do not move, Senor Zorro. I have you surrounded," Garcia said, jumping to his feet and letting the point of his sword touch the outlaw's chest.

Zorro, expecting a much warmer welcome than this, was too surprised to reach for his own sword in time.

"What is this, Sergeant Garcia? I thought I was helping you."

"You aren't," Garcia said. "The flowers ruined me."

"Did not Clara like them?" Zorro asked helplessly.

"Si, she did! No, she didn't," Garcia corrected himself. "She went absolutely _demente_ over them! I have never seen Clara act like that, and then Senorita Nina tells me she is going to marry me, and a strange lady came by the cuartel so right now, Senor Zorro, as much as it matters to any not in the Spanish Army, I am ill with _la gripe_ and unless you wish to be infected, I suggest you do not return!"

Shocked, Zorro merely let Garcia shoo him out of his office and rode home. Once there, he did not bother changing, or even going to the secret cave.

* * *

Magdalena bolted upright in bed when a masked figure vaulted over the balcony and into her room.

"What are you doing?" She scolded. "You might have scared me."

"But I did not?" Zorro asked, and continued the conversation by taking his hat and mask off.

"Your conversation did not go well?" Magdalena asked, slipping from the bed to take his things. "What about Tornado?"

"I left him in the canyon and took Torcedor to the balcony," Zorro responded. "I wanted to surprise you."

She scoffed, a faint blush on her cheeks as she helped him undress. "What about Garcia?"

"He kicked me from his office," Diego said simply, the last vestiges of Zorro fading away so that only her husband remained. "I had not even spoken yet when he leaped from his bed and pointed a saber at my chest."

"His instincts have gotten better?"

"He was waiting for me," Diego replied, his voice dry. He sat on the bed while Magdalena padded over to the secret passage, pressed the mantel and entered. He waited as she hung his things up, then gently grabbed her waist when she returned.

They sank into the bed, Diego was about to kiss her, when a furious pounding on the door interrupted them.

* * *

"I tell you, Inez, I will not tolerate this sort of behavior!" Francisco said, exasperated. "You married my brother, and I will not let you disgrace his memory like this."

"What is wrong with dressing up a little?" Inez protested, hands on her hips.

Magdalena watched the conversation amusedly. You'd almost think it was _her_ he was criticizing. Growing up, she would never have thought Inez would ever be on the receiving end of an angry tirade. Especially not from her father. Francisco was one of the most gentle and patient men Magdalena knew, and she treasured her papa for it.

But _por los santos!_ She had never seen him react as strongly as he had upon discovering his _cuñada_ in the tavern at two in the morning.

She rubbed a still sleepy eye, and walked over to place a hand on her father's arm. "Papa, no one saw her, no one recognized her!"

"That does not make anything better," he grumbled, but when he covered her hand with his own, she knew the argument was won. "I think Inez should stay here until the masquerade, and until _San Valentin's_ feast has passed. It makes fools of too many."

Above her protests, Francisco swept from the hacienda, leaving a disgruntled Inez with Magdalena.

"I think I am your chaperone now," Magdalena said amusedly, and Inez simply blushed.

"Now, please tell me why you were in the tavern," she pleaded, walking over.

"Like I already said, no one recognized me!" Inez protested. "I was disappointed, so I wanted something...sweet to drink."

"You were disappointed at two in the morning?"

"Well, confidentially," Inez began, leaning closer and lowering her voice. "This stays between us, but I was there since the angelus hour the previous night!"

She leaned back, arms crossed in a sign of rebellion, and Magdalena couldn't laugh at her aunt.

* * *

The masquerade seemed to be flying closer.

Magdalena and Diego had decided to surprise each other at it to create mystery; they both kept their costumes secret and Diego was to leave before she did.

She was looking forward to it. She hoped that Diego would recognize her soon, and that she'd be able to identify him in what she knew would be a sea of men.

The dress slid silkily over her fingers as Senora Rocío finished the alterations. The seamstress finished, and stood up with a sigh, pressing a hand to her lower back.

"Does it satisfy?" She asked.

Looking in the mirror, Magdalena knew it did. "It's beautiful," she said. "I know we already agreed on the price, but I think you worked hard enough to merit much more."

A hand on her pregnant belly, Rocío jerked it back down. "Do you mean that?"

"Of course," Magdalena reassured, as a maid came to help her out of the dress. "I know of many _costureras_ in Mexico City that could not do as good a job as you just did."

Rocío took the offered purse with surprised hands, hands that quickly opened the bag and gasped at the contents. "Dona Magdalena, this is...!"

Dressed back in her street clothes, Magdalena waited as her costume was packaged. " _De nada._ Just answer one question. Did you make my aunt's dress?"

"Si, I did," Rocío said, slipping the purse away. "Very complicated. I liked yours, since it was such a simple design."

Magdalena nodded. "Muchos gracias."

* * *

After she left, Senora Rocío slipped into the back room. When she saw who waited for her there, she inhaled a gasp of horror.

In moments, for she knew it was better to not fight him, her _visitor_ had left, bearing the precious pesos she'd been given to feed her fatherless children.

Rocío threw a vase at the wall and held back the bitter tears that threatened to fall.

* * *

"Si, I'd like to see the commandante!" Diego repeated to Private Delgado.

"You cannot," the Private replied, squinting at him through the hole in the gate. "He has _la gripe._ No visitors allowed. We are in quarantine."

"Now, Private, you and I both know that the Sergeant is not sick in the least," Diego said impatiently.

"We do?" Delgado blinked. "I did not know that. He made a quick recovery, didn't he, Don Diego?"

"Very quick," Diego growled. "May I see him now?"

"No," Delgado replied, and shut the hatch.

Diego turned away from the door, exasperated, and stalked back to where Bernardo waited with the horses. "Sergeant Garcia is keeping his masquerade going," he told him. "He still insists he is sick. I don't understand it. At the rate he's going, he will completely miss Don Marcos' _San Valentin_ masquerade."

Bernardo signed something.

"Si, I did talk to him as Zorro, and got a few answers then, but nothing that would prompt Garcia to miss a night of wine, music, wine, ladies, wine, dancing..."

Bernardo moved his hands again. "Si, and wine too." Diego added. They both laughed, but Diego's laugh was short lived when he looked back at the closed cuartel.

"I'm worried about him," he confided. "Wait here just a moment."

As he turned away from the horses, heading down the small, shop lined street, someone collided with him.

He only barely caught the woman's arms in time, and her belly collided with his flat stomach. She was _embarazada._ And crying.

"Senora Rocío," he said, surprised. Careful, he held her tightly until she'd regained her balance.

"Buenos dias, Don Diego," she muttered. "Please, I am in a hurry."

"What is the matter?" He asked, fishing in his pockets for a handkerchief and handing it to her.

She took it reluctantly but didn't speak.

"Is it one of your children?" He asked, voice gentle.

"I was just remembering my husband," she finally said. "It's been almost six months now. I don't know how I'll manage without him when I have another little one." She rubbed her stomach, then held the handkerchief out.

"Keep it," he urged and she drew her hand back to herself. "You know you'd be alright. Why, my wife would never go anywhere else, and I think she mentioned plans to give you a bonus."

Surprising him, Rocío's eyes darkened. "Si. A very big bonus," she said, with anger and sarcasm in her voice.

Before he could stop her, she broke away from him and continued her path down the street. Diego ran back to the horses. "I need to talk to Magdalena," he told Bernardo. "I'll tell you what Senora Rocío said while we are on the road."

* * *

Bernardo was just as confused as Diego, and signed that he _knew_ Magdalena had gone to the dressmaker's today.

"I wonder if she didn't pay," Diego said, frowning. "Otherwise, I truly don't know what might prompt Senora Rocío to such hysterics."

They reached the hacienda in good time, and Diego wasted no time in finding Magdalena.

Inez was with her, in the sala.

"Diego, how good to see you!" She cried, jumping to meet him. "Have you seen Sergeant Garcia at all?"

"Aunt Inez," he greeted. "Pardon, but I must speak to Magdalena."

"Of course," Inez said, but only sat down again. She watched the two expectantly.

"We are married," Diego said impatiently. "It's no longer necessary to chaperone us."

"Oh, I know," Inez said complacently. When she still didn't leave, Diego took Magdalena by the hand and led her into the study.

He wasn't surprised to see her covering her hand with her mouth to stifle the laughter that was trying to burst out.

"What is Inez doing here?" Diego asked.

"Remember last night?" Magdalena said.

"Your father came by," he said, not knowing anything else since he'd fallen asleep by the time she'd made it back upstairs.

"With Inez," Magdalena said, and explained the situation.

Diego looked completely flabbergasted. "She was _where,_ at _what_ time?"

"She is not allowed to leave our hacienda until after _San Valentin's_ feast," Magdalena explained.

Diego resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "The things that happen when Inez is around..."

"Why did you need to speak to me in private?" Magdalena asked, placing a hand on his arm. "And why are you so tense? Are the two related?"

"Si," he said, and drew her down onto the step beside him. "Did you go see Senora Rocío today?"

Magdalena stiffened. "I thought we agreed to keep our costumes secret."

"We did, it doesn't have to do with that," Diego said.

"Well, I saw her," Magdalena answered.

"Did you pay her?"

Magdalena's eyes widened, then flashed with anger. "What kind of questioning is this, Diego? Do you think I am stealing from you? Si, I gave her a bit more, but if it bothers you, I can get the money somewhere else!"

"Calm down," Diego said, but Magdalena was standing.

"I will not calm down," she said. "You just accused me of—"

"I accused you of nothing!" Diego protested. "But Senora Rocío seemed to be of the opinion that she hadn't been paid yet, and I thought to check."

His only answer was the slam of the study door behind Magdalena.

* * *

When El Zorro rode that night, he made a very restless rider.

Tornado could sense his master's distraction, and more than once, Zorro only barely caught himself from slipping off.

"I'm sorry, Tornado," he whispered, sliding from the horse's back once they reached Senora Rocío's window. "I should be paying better attention to you."

Tornado turned his face away in response and Zorro sighed to realize that no matter _who_ he spoke with, they'd be angry with him.

Holding the purse of money close, he slipped through the small window of Rocío's house. He only barely fit through, and bumped his head on an overhanging flower pot as he straightened.

He was surprised to see that Rocío was still up, or had meant to be. She sat in a chair next to a smoldering fire, the makeshift weapon of a _rodillo_ in her hands.

 _What has been happening to her?_ He wondered, cursing himself for not recognizing signs of trouble before now.

Outside, he heard Tornado nicker nervously, but ignored the noise as he stepped closer to Rocío and she jerked awake.

"Senor, go—Zorro!" She gaped at him, then burst out crying. "Senor, why has it taken you so long?"

"I am sorry, Senora, I was too busy being selfish," he said. "What has been happening to you?"

"He has!" She said. "Every day, almost, he comes and demands payment."

"Who is he? Why on earth would you pay him?" Zorro asked. "What can he possibly hold over you?"

He watched with a small measure of pride when she took out the handkerchief he'd given her as Diego, and used it to wipe her face.

"I don't know who he is," she gasped. "But he first appeared two weeks again, and placed a knife at my sleeping child's throat. I—I had to give it to him!"

"Give what?"

"The payment for Dona Inez's dress," she explained. "It was so much."

Zorro leaned over her, his expression fierce. "Senora Rocío, I apologize for taking so long. This is something that I should have known about long ago, if I'd only been paying proper attention. I promise you that I will catch him and return your money to you. In the meantime, take this."

She took the small purse with hands that were wet with tears. "Gracias, Senor. I will pay you back if you catch him."

"Si, you will pay me back _when_ I catch him," he soothed, and disappeared into the night.

It occurred to him that a few other people had been acting strange lately too.


	6. Chapter 6

 

"Maria, did you pay him again?" The words were weary, spoken by her _suegro._ Maria looked up from the pot she was stirring, and nodded. Her face was streaked with tears.

Salvio sighed, and sat down heavily. "We cannot afford this much longer," he whispered. "Yet neither can we afford to not pay him, or to let Eugenio find out."

"We mustn't let Eugenio know," Maria agreed, flying to Salvio's side. "There is no telling what he may do, he is too hot tempered!"

"At least he does not notice how often we eat beans now," Salvio said. "You are a good daughter, Maria. I am glad Eugenio was wise enough to pick you."

"As am I," Maria said softly. "But I'm not sure it was wisdom that made Eugenio choose me."

She stood, and walked to the pot to dish it up. Salvio took the plate offered him, and watched as she wound a shawl around her head.

"I am going to take this to Eugenio," she said quietly. "I should be back soon."

* * *

On the feast of _San Valentin,_ Diego woke in the morning with a stiff neck, and cold face. He sat up to realize that Magdalena was long gone, though the light coming through the curtains showed that it was still early.

He got out of bed quickly, brushing his hair back and wondering how things between him and Magdalena had so quickly escalated to a full-out quarrel.

Unfortunately, it was not just the conversation in the study. He'd been peeved with her misunderstanding, and she'd been angry with him, until their cold shoulders caught up to them.

They had fought last night, a bitter quarrel that caused Magdalena to sleep on the very edge of the bed, and ignore all of Diego's pleas to listen, until he'd grown angry at her for ignoring him and dropped off to a restless sleep.

This was, of course, not the first time they'd quarreled. Fights weren't common between them, but they weren't unusual. It was unusual for them to last this long, however, and cut as deep.

Dressed in a riding outfit, Diego walked to the balcony, surveyed the empty land below, and, using the vines that climbed up his wall, climbed down.

He had important business, and didn't need any...distractions today.

* * *

He rode into the blacksmith's yard as the sun was still warming the earth. He could pounding in the forge, and walked to see who it was.

Eugenio stood beside the fire, looking exhausted and filthy, covered with grime. But in his hand he held a recently repaired shaft for a carriage, and Diego had the feeling the younger blacksmith had been working the whole night to finish it.

Quietly, he turned back around and headed for the house.

The door was open to let in the early morning air, and Diego didn't need to knock since Salvio was exiting as he approached.

"Don Diego! What brings you here?"

"I'd like to talk to you, and Senora Maria, if I may," Diego said. "Are you too busy this morning?"

"No, of course not," Salvio said, ducking back into the house. "Maria! It is Don Diego!"

Maria was crouched by the fire, stirring a pot with an expression of unhappiness on her face.

"This question may come as unexpected, but it may not," Diego said. "Have you two had trouble with a bandito recently?"

"What makes you say that?"

"I spoke to some others," Diego said. "And I have reason to think that you have also been bothered by him."

He didn't miss the quick glances Salvio and Maria traded.

"Si, we have been...bothered," Maria began. "It is not so serious."

"It is a mysterious man, face covered, one person every time, the same person every time?" Diego asked. "Did he somehow find out a weakness of yours and then threaten harm to it if you did not obey him?"

"Si," Salvio said. "Don Diego, I do not wish to insult, but whatever do you propose to do about it?"

"I have my ways," Diego said. "How much has he taken from you?"

"No money," Salvio said. "But he forced me to make him a sword, and he has been taking all the food Maria manages to buy."

"What did he use as leverage?" Diego asked, his voice even softer.

Outside, footsteps approached the house.

Maria's eyes pleaded with him. "Eugenio, of course."

"'Of course', what, _corazon_?" Eugenio entered the house, looking tired but triumphant. "Don Diego! What a surprise! What brings you here?"

"I was wanting Salvio to check my horse's shoes," DIego said. "I think there is a rock. And I could not pass by without speaking to your wife."

Eugenio's arm slid around Maria, pulled her close.

As Salvio led Diego back outside, Diego glanced back and saw the two share a kiss.

Si, of course Eugenio. There was nothing Maria and Salvio would not do for the young man, and since it concerned him, there was no chance of them telling. Eugenio had much too hot a temper to be told of such things.

"Do you know of anyone else?" Diego asked Salvio, as Salvio checked Torcedor's hooves.

"The coachman," Salvio said. "He was here yesterday, saying that he did not have payment after all."

"He planned to pay for coach repairs from his own pocket?" Diego asked.

"No, it was a gift I'd fashioned for him," Salvio said. "He has never missed a payment before."

"It's worth looking into," Diego assured him. " _Muchos gracias_. And tell Maria to not worry. This man will be caught before Eugenio knows anything about him!"

* * *

Unsure where to look for Diaz, Diego rode into Los Angeles and halted in front of the tavern. Teo would be sure to know where Diaz could be found.

Inside, the tavern was almost empty. Only one person sat at a table, eating a hot breakfast. It was too early for there to be more.

It was not Teo at the counter, but Carlotta. It was obvious she'd stayed up the whole night; dark circles beneath her eyes betrayed her.

Diego walked up, and handed over a peso. "Coffee, _por favor._ "

As she prepared it, he leaned close. "Was there trouble? Why did you stay up all night?"

Carlotta's eyes flashed in surprise. "Don Diego, how could you tell?"

"That doesn't matter. Was there trouble?"

She sighed, lowering her voice. "We had some troublesome guests. Teo was wary, and planned to stay all night but as I was preparing to leave last night, Teo had to go unexpectedly. It seemed to be quite an emergency."

Diego frowned. "What kind of emergency?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "A messenger, just a little boy, came in off the street and said there was someone Teo must speak with."

"Did he use any odd words? Something that would signal to Teo who it was without someone else noticing."

Carlotta, puzzled, started to shake her head. "I don't think so. What kind of words?"

"Unusual ones," Diego said. "Longer words that have the same meaning as short ones."

"Maybe he did," Carlotta said, considering. "He called Teo a _dueño._ "

"Instead of a tavern owner?"

"Si," Carlotta said. "Could that be what you mean?"

Diego shrugged. "Maybe. _Muchos gracias._ "

When he left the tavern, the man who'd been eating stood up abruptly and walked to the counter.

"Senor. Are you finished?" Carlotta asked when he approached.

"Si, I am. Who was that talking with you?"

"Don Diego," she said, then clarified. "Don Diego de la Vega. He is the son of an important _haciendado._ "

" _Gracias_ ," the man replied, and gave her a peso.

He'd already left before she realized it was not enough to pay the bill. She momentarily considered running after him, but cast the idea aside.

She was too tired.

* * *

Diego walked from the tavern, frowning. Swinging into the saddle, he urged Torcedor south, towards where Teo's family lived.

As he approached the hut, Teo exploded from it in a blur of flour, chickens and shrieking children. Diego halted Torcedor immediately, more than a little afraid that he'd accidentally trample one.

"And stay out, Teo Gonzales!" His wife, Cristina, followed him out. "I cannot believe you would say that to me!"

"It was not meant as an insult," the innkeeper protested, the chickens around him still squawking. Diego watched the scene in complete bewilderment before dismounting and tying Torcedor at the nearest post.

Cristina, having gathered her chickens and children, stormed back inside the hut, slamming the door behind her. Teo sat in the dirt, looking as bewildered as Diego felt.

He extended a hand, and was gratified when Teo accepted it. "An argument?" Diego asked, tipping his head toward the hut.

Teo frowned, wiping his hands on his trousers. "Si, you could call it that. Me, I just think she is insane. And I may have told her that at the exact wrong moment."

"Ah," Diego said, watching as Teo tidied himself. "I need to ask you a question."

"Anything, Don Diego," Teo said. "Can we walk as we speak?"

"Of course," Diego agreed, and looped Torcedor's reins over his hand before catching up to the shorter man.

"Have you had any trouble at the tavern lately?" Diego asked without preamble.

Teo blinked. "We had troublesome guests last night."

"Money trouble, perhaps?" Diego asked. "A man asking for favors with the threat of harm to you or your own promised if he does not receive what he wants."

Teo blinked again, and Diego noticed that the man's hands had started to tremble. "How did you know, Don Diego?"

"I was speaking with others, who have the same problem," Diego said. "May I ask what he threatened?"

"Cristina," Teo said, his voice barely a whisper. "She expects our ninth child. He vowed to end both their lives."

Diego clapped his hand on Teo's shoulder. "I vow to you that it will not happen. I am going to take care of this."

"You? But Don Diego..." Teo trailed off. " _Muchos gracias_."

Diego watched Teo hurry up the stairs to his tavern, and turned to leave. He was leading Torcedor past the building, they were in the shadow of the alley, when he heard a sound, saw a shadow dart near, and there was a searing pain in his head.

He almost lost himself, he almost sank into unconsciousness. At the last second, he managed to shake the stupor off and swing around. His attacker was dressed in dusty clothes and his face was covered with a handkerchief.

Diego countered the next blow that was aimed, and tried to fit in one of his own.

He caught a punch on the jaw, staggered back, and in that moment, his attacker fled.

More dazed than ever, Diego took off after him, but his head was spinning and he didn't make it past tavern's backdoor.

Carlotta found him on the back steps a few minutes later, and the young don was still clutching his head.

* * *

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

Magdalena's entrance to the sala went largely unnoticed. On the patio, music played and dancers whirled. She had seen many clever costumes, and more than several couples that would probably announce their engagements in the morning.

She didn't see Diego, and she had been looking hard for him.

"Magdalena?"

She turned, to see Margarita heading towards her, dressed as flamenco dancer.

"It is you," Margarita cried, upon reaching her. "I've been looking for you! What a wonderful costume! Which goddess are you? I'm sorry, but I don't know much about _mitología._ "

"Persephone," Magdalena said. "She was taken to the underworld by Hades, and upon eating a pomegranate," Magdalena held hers up, "She was forced to stay."

Margarita's eyebrows raised. "I hope she isn't meant to represent you."

"No," Magdalena protested. "The idea just caught my fancy. Have you seen Diego? We came separately, to surprise each other."

Margarita shook her head. "That is why I was looking for you," she began, and spotted someone across the room. "Oh, I must go and say hello to Don Alfredo."

Magdalena watched her go, before silently slipping away, through a corridor that, thankfully, ended with a door that led outside.

Outside to a beautiful little garden. Magdalena was about to step further, but spied someone and hesitated.

"It's all right, Dona Magdalena, it's just me," the other person said, and when he rose, she recognized him.

"Sergeant? Why are you all alone out here?"

Garcia heaved a sigh. "Life has not been kind to me. One moment, I was comfortable in the knowledge that no one wanted me. Now I have two women fighting over me, and I have realized that I care for neither."

"Which two?" Magdalena asked, stepping forward.

"Clara Gonzales, and Senorita Nina Amantero," he replied gloomily, sitting down when she did. "I do not even know Senorita Nina, and Clara's behavior over the past few days made me realize I do not know her either. And I have further realized something else..." He turned tortured eyes to meet her. "I love an entirely different woman!"

"Senorita Bastenado?" Magdalena ventured. "I know her invitation to the Corporal disappointed you."

"No, not the Senorita Bastenado," Garcia sighed. "Though I do still think of her with fondness."

"Who, then?" Magdalena asked, wondering if she was betraying her aunt by not even considering her as a possibility.

"It does not matter," Garcia answered. "I think I should be going anyway. Everyone believes I am in quarantine, so I should be back in the cuartel before I am missed."

He slipped away, and Magdalena watched him go with a frown on her face.

She, too, stood up, and looked up at the night sky.

It was then that she heard the screams.

* * *

Diego was nobody's fool, and did not take his decision to go as Zorro lightly. He had modified his real outfit with some lavish trimmings, and was using a different mask.

It was obvious to all who noticed that this was not the real Zorro. The sword at his side was obviously wooden; the sword hidden on his back was more than sharp enough.

He strolled among the party guests casually, laughing with them over the ridiculousness of it all.

_Diego as Zorro? What a silly idea!_

"Diego, does that costume really compliment you?" Moneta asked him, her eyes sparkling.

"Well, it's all in fun," he replied, fidgeting with the cape to show how uncomfortable this Diego was.

"I know, but isn't it a little far reaching?"

Diego deferred his answer by tripping on the cape. The sound he heard as he walked away was the girls' giggles.

Well, this was just acting after all, and he may as well give a good show.

Besides, none of this bothered him half as much since he'd married Magdalena.

_Beautiful Magdalena. Adventurous Magdalena._

_Angry Magdalena._

He skirted a cluster of guests, and it was then that he saw him.

His face was covered, he was dressed as some sort of knight. As Diego watched, he saw that the guest held his arm tenderly, as though it had been injured.

As Diego watched, the guest neatly plucked a gold earring from Margarita's ear, and the bracelet from Moneta's slim wrist.

_Caught._

Diego slipped into the sala, and ducked into the first empty room he saw. There, he reversed his cap and removed the hat Diego had been wearing as Zorro.

He took his mask off, and tied the proper one on. Then unfastened the wooden sword and put the steel in its place.

His costume reversed, Diego was no longer attending the fiesta. In his place, there was a fierce outlaw, one who was about to take his just vengeance on the man who'd been terrorizing the pueblo.

Zorro charged out onto the patio, and immediately, there was chorus of gasps. To the guests, it could not be more obvious that this was not the timid Don Diego. This was the real Zorro!

"Do you think he's angry at Diego for dressing as him?" He heard Moneta whisper, but his path didn't alter a bit.

Across the room, he saw his prey, and saw how the man shrank against the wall.

A waiter passed in front of Zorro, and the other man took his chance. The tray went flying, there was a chorus of screams as senoritas were doused with the cold liquid.

Zorro dashed through the gate after his target, and knew that this time, the man would not get away.

* * *

Magdalena made it back onto the patio a moment too late. Around her, guests were murmuring and she caught the words 'Zorro' and 'who was the other'?

She approached Margarita, but her friend was much too busy with an elderly guest who'd fainted, and she turned.

Moneta caught her gaze. "Magdalena, is that you?" Moneta asked, stepping forward.

"Si," Magdalena answered. "You look marvelous."

" _Muchos gracias,_ " Moneta answered. "I wasn't sure about the choice of princess. And you must be Persephone." She pointed to the pomegranate.

Magdalena nodded, pleased that Moneta recognized it. "What was just happening here?"

"Zorro," Moneta said, dimples appearing as a smile crowned her face. Her eyes glinted, and Magdalena felt an odd twinge to see the other woman's devotion to Zorro.

"Well, what did he do?"

"I'm not sure," Moneta admitted. "There was a man here that Zorro pursued. He must have been a bandito of sorts, but it happened rather suddenly."

Magdalena surveyed Moneta's outfit again. "You really do look marvelous, Moneta. I like your decision to not wear jewelry."

"What do you mean?" Moneta asked, amused. "I'm wearing my mother's bracelet...No, it appears I am not."

Her lips pursed. "Maybe that's why Zorro appeared," she said. "I hope that it why. I would like to see my bracelet returned."

* * *

The fiesta ended before Zorro made it back to Cortazar hacienda.

Magdalena went home with Don Alejandro, both feeling a bit worried over the outlaw's fate by now.

"Where is Diego?" Margarita asked them, as they said their goodbyes.

"He had to leave," Alejandro said, after exchanging a glance with his _nuera._ "A headache."

Margarita blinked. "Oh, si. _Buenas noches,_ both of you."

Magdalena touched her arm. "It was a lovely evening. I only hope you are not too disappointed Diego left so early, and that Zorro rather ruined it."

Margarita's laugh burst out, a beautiful noise. "Zorro doesn't ruin fiestas," she giggled. "He improves them. Almost as much as Don Estevan could have."

Her dimples showing, Margarita said goodbye once more, and Alejandro led Magdalena to their carriage.

"Margarita is a very unique woman," Magdalena said. "I don't think I've ever known anyone like her. She holds no bitterness against your _cuñado_ even though he left her so suddenly."

"She only sees the joy in life," Alejandro said. "She is much like Diego's mother in that respect."

Magdalena placed a hand on his arm and gently squeezed. No words were needed.

* * *

"I told you, I am not who you look for," the man gasped, and Zorro continued advancing.

"Si, you are," he snapped. "And you took more than a fair share of the female guests' jewelry tonight. I would like to return it to them."

The man almost growled in frustration. "Give me a sword," he snapped. "Then I shall show you!"

"I have no extra weapon," Zorro said. "But if I did have one, I would not hesitate to give it to you, fool though you are. No man has ever bested me."

"I know," the man said, and took the helmet from his head.

"Martinez!" Zorro swore, and Martinez sneered.

"It took you too long to remember me, Senor Zorro. Now en garde!"

A sword appeared out of nowhere, it seemed, and Zorro fumbled for his own.

It was quick and vicious. Martinez's costume impeded his movement, and he was unarmed within moments, with a sword at his throat.

"You will take me to your hideout," Zorro hissed. "And you will give back everything you took."

"You will have to kill me first," Martinez snapped.

Making a decision, Zorro ripped the man's costume from his shoulder, the plate of armor coming easily once he figured how.

"What are you doing?" Martinez asked, then stiffened as the blade of justice pierced his skin.

* * *

The good Sergeant did indeed sneak from the fiesta early, going through the back of the Cortazar hacienda, and heading to the stables from there. Once mounted on his horse, he rode towards the cuartel slowly, quietly.

He felt let down. He felt sad.

He had expected Senor Zorro to appear again, to make his path clear so that he knew what decision he must make.

The outlaw had done such a thing so many times in the past. It made Garcia feel almost angry to realize that this was a decision that Zorro _couldn't_ make for him. And that was all there was to it.

He had to decide for himself what woman was right for him, and what woman would truly love him in return.

And if he wanted to marry anyway. As Don Diego had said, why should he be in a hurry to marry?

Cutting across meadows, he neared the road as the path grew steeper, and it was then that he saw the stopped carriage.

"What is this?" He said, urging his horse faster, until they came abreast of it.

" _¡Ah!_ Is anyone here?" He called. "I am a soldier of the King. You need fear nothing from me."

"Commandante?" He heard a voice ask, and gasped when the occupant alighted.

She wore a mask, he wasn't sure who it was, but the splendor of her dress and costume awed him. She had obviously been going to the _San Valentin_ masquerade Don Marcos had been holding.

He dismounted quickly, and hurried to her side. "What has happened, senorita?"

"Senorita?" The woman asked, and he was surprised to hear bitterness in her tone. "Don't you recognize me, Sergeant? I am Dona Inez."

Garcia wasn't sure what made him do it, but he reached up and gently removed her mask before she could. His hands brushed her hair, and the soft skin of her cheek as he did so, and she shivered.

"This was supposed to be a magical night," Inez murmured, gazing up at him with crystal clear eyes. "I was supposed to have a secret rendezvous with my _amante,_ and it was supposed to be a scandal and we would be forced to marry."

She shook her head. "There is no magic on _San Valentin's_ feast after all."

"Let me disagree," Garcia protested, words coming surprisingly easy. "Scandals are not worth the bother, and wouldn't you rather he chose to marry you?"

It was then that he leaned down, placed his hands on her shoulders, and kissed her.

Her arms slid around his neck, and Garcia suddenly had the feeling that he was finally the hero in this story.

It wasn't just Zorro who got the girl after all.

And as it turned out, it had been Inez all along.

* * *

Magdalena was pacing the floor when Zorro returned, both still in costume.

"Where have you been?" She asked, flying to him, and he stepped back automatically, as if fearing her.

She remembered the last words she'd said to him, and colored. "I didn't mean what I said, Diego, I was just afraid."

"Of what?" He asked, and untied his mask.

"That my gift for you would not arrive in time," she whispered. "This is why I went to see Sergeant Garcia. I needed to ask him to not check my mail."

Diego's brows hiked up. "Whyever not?"

She pressed something into his gloved hand, and he switched it to the other so he could remove his glove before looking at it.

He moved into the moonlight to see better, and she moved with him, hearing the small gasp he made upon discovering what it was.

"How did you do this?" He asked, a note of awe in his voice as he turned to her.

"I commissioned a copy," she whispered. "I wrote a friend, who knew you in Spain as the best fencer living. I told him your trophy had been stolen, and could he commission a copy? This arrived yesterday."

"I gave away this life when I returned home," Diego whispered. "I never thought to see something like this again."

"That is why I wanted you to have it," she said. "I really am sorry for what I said."

"I am sorry also," he whispered, and pulled her to him.

"Why did you leave the fiesta?" She asked, and he chuckled before pulling away again.

"That is a story for another time," he said. "But suffice to say that it had a very happy ending. Moneta's bracelet will be returned to her."

"A thief?" Magdalena asked, as his lips landed on her neck.

"A bit more than that," he whispered, and she shivered. "But as I said, that's not important right now."

* * *

_Epilogue: A week later._

* * *

The day Corporal Reyes returned to Los Angeles, after spending three weeks at Dolores Bastenado's rancho, it was dry and dusty.

The Corporal rode his horse through town, silently marvelling at the stillness. True, it was near the siesta hour. But it was more the weather that was quieting people.

At the cuartel gate, he announced his name and was let in. Ibarra welcomed him heartily.

"Muchacho! Did you have a nice visit?"

"Si," Corporal Reyes answered. "It was very good. Senorita Bastenado was most kind to me."

Ibarra watched eagerly as Reyes dismounted, his eyes on the large basket Reyes bore in front of him.

"What is in the basket?" Ibarra asked, trying to peek.

"I think I should show it to the Sergeant first," Reyes answered and Ibarra visibly wilted.

"But if it's food, I'll never see it again!"

Reyes shrugged. "If it's food and we don't tell him about it..."

He trailed off as Ibarra walked in front of him to rap on the door of the Commandante's office.

"Enter!"

Ibarra opened the door and poked his head in. Sergeant Garcia sat at his desk, writing something.

"Sergeant, Corporal Reyes has returned from his visit to Senorita Bastenado's rancho."

"Show him in, Private!" Garcia said, standing. "Corporal! It is so good to see you again! Did you have a nice trip?"

Looking uneasy, Reyes stepped forward. "Nothing to boast about, Sergeant."

"I doubt that! I think Senorita Bastenado would have showered you with pleasant times! What's in the basket?"

"Just some things she sent back with me," Reyes said, surrendering to the inevitable and handing the basket over to his superior.

Garcia unpacked it with relish. " _Salchichón_! I have never seen such a beautiful sausage! Brandy! What a wonderful looking cake! Are those dates? Candied oranges?"

He looked up at Reyes, and the Corporal could see the raw desire in the Sergeant's eyes. He awaited with dread the moment when Garcia would commandeer it, making something up about how gifts weren't allowed, or he had to inspect the food before returning it to him.

"Do you, uh, plan to share this, Corporal?"

"I'm—I'm not sure. I hadn't thought about it," Reyes said.

Something seemed to change in the Sergeant. As Reyes watched, Garcia seemed to think of something, and slowly sat down again.

He picked up his quill, turning back to his letter. "I am sure that the men in the garrison would appreciate a share," he said, a bit distractedly. "You may keep it all to yourself, if that's what you prefer, but if you do decide on that course of action, you had better have a good hiding place in mind."

Reyes stared at him. "You—you do not wish any, Sergeant?"

"Me?" Garcia said. "Why should I? I think I am well enough off to not have to take treats from a mere corporal. But thank you for offering."

Reyes still stood in the middle of the office floor, staring at Garcia. "But...but.."

"Did you not hear me? I do not want any. Please, if you have nothing more to say," Garcia fluttered his hand towards the door.

Reyes took the hint, grabbed the basket back and fairly fled the office, obviously not believing his luck.

Garcia put quill to paper, and began to write.

_"Inez, today Corporal Reyes returned from Dolores Bastenado's rancho..."_


End file.
